Between a Rock and a Hard Place
by doc100
Summary: What happens when 'happily ever after' doesn't go quite as planned?  Written in response to a challenge.
1. Chapter 1

**Between a Rock and a Hard Place** by doc

_**AN #1: **__This is my answer to the October 2007 HBX Challenge._

_I'm well aware that I still owe you a September challenge story, but I'm of the opinion if I start at the end and work my way backwards, I just might manage to catch-up…possibly in __**'this'**__ lifetime._

_The challenge lines are from the episode 'Martin Baker Fan Club': "It is hardly an obsession." … "You can walk away any time?" … "Any time!" … "How about now?"_

_**AN #2: PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTES! YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!**_

_**AN #3:**__ I'm banking on the 'goodwill' generated from my last piece of 'fluff'. I'll warn you up front, this story is a little different and more than a bit dark. It's been bugging me for a while, nudging at my mind, poking me in the ribs, waking me up at night, insisting on being written. If you don't like the story…__**TALK TO THE MUSE!**__ Hopefully my last piece of marshmallow fluff topped with whip cream and sprinkles will buy me a little leniency and __**PATIENCE**_

_Okay, stepping off the cliff…_

_Most of you are aware that Mattie wasn't my favorite character. I found the storyline more than a little contrived and unrealistic. In the 'real world', a single, unrelated, male 'acquaintance' living in an open 'one-room' loft would __**NEVER**__ be given custody of a young, impressionable, teenaged-girl. And with absolute certainty, I can promise you that there is no way Child Protective Services would allow said teenager to live down the hall in a different apartment from her court-appointed guardian with an unrelated, unapproved, un-appointed, substitute adult. Whew, was that enough 'nevers', 'no's' and 'un's'?!_

_All those facts aside, I thought I would tackle a 'realistic' continuation of the Mattie storyline. I find it rather amusing when folks write the character of Mattie as a happy-go-lucky kid. Worse yet, when they write her as a 5-year old sitting on Harm's lap, holding his or Jen's hand, or spending all her time 'basking' in her guardian's glow. Granted, I wouldn't mind basking in Harm's glow, but I'm an adult of the female 'human' persuasion. Teenagers? Well, thems another story or is that species? Just kidding! (Smiling, while bowing in contrition). I mean this as no disrespect to my younger readers, but most teenagers are aloof and independent creatures…it's a normal part of growing up and asserting your independence from your folks. They hibernate in their rooms with the door closed, growling at anyone who ventures too near, while loud music shakes the rafters!_

_In addition to normal teen behaviors, I always viewed Mattie as a 'very old soul' in a 'very young' body. She'd been through so much in her short lifetime that she was worldly-wise beyond her years. She'd lost one parent to death, and another to the bottle. She ran a business and a home, commanding/supervising adult men in the task of crop dusting. When she moved in with Harm, she actually expected him to rent her an apartment…a rather impertinent request if you ask me! Despite all that, she allowed Harm into her life and even further into her heart. I think their relationship helped both of them to grow emotionally. Through Harm, Mattie learned to trust and to forgive. I loved the fact that Harm helped Mattie reestablish a relationship with her father. When Mattie went back 'home', I thought the storyline had run its course. What a great moral victory…Tom sober, stable and supportive…Mattie happy and reunited with her father, family and friends._

_**THAT SHOULD'VE BEEN THE END!**__ But alas, TPTB had to 'screw-up' happiness in their ploy to rid the JAG world of our hulking hero, Harm._

_Once Mattie was injured, and Tom fell off the wagon…Mattie's world was once again wracked to the core. Most of the emotional growth garnered from the benefit of Harm would've faltered if not been completely lost. Throw in an absentee father, a devastating injury, abandonment issues, and a move halfway across the world, and well… Let's just say that Mattie would've had a lot of grieving to do over the losses in her life. Grief occurs in 5 stages. I would expect Mattie to experience and hopefully successfully transition through those stages: Denial…Anger…Bargaining…Depression…Acceptance._

_Finally, Mattie survived a fatal collision between two airplanes, in the midst of a driving snowstorm. A horrendous collision involving two large-scale, multi-ton objects, which claimed ALL of the other participants as its victim! She was unconscious for weeks, and as of the final episode, had not recovered any functions, except for consciousness and the ability to speak and breathe. For the purpose of this story, Mattie is wheelchair-bound, with complete paralysis of her lower extremities, and restricted use of her arms. This outcome is not just realistic, but PROBABLE._

_**Read at your own risk**__! Although, I do promise happiness for all in the end! Sorry to wax long and not so poetic with psychobabble nonsense. Now…ON WITH THE SHOW!!!_

_**xxxxx**_

_Disclaimer: I don't own JAG or any of the characters. I just take them out and play with them on occasion before replacing them safe and sound back on the shelf._

_Please excuse the omissions, misspellings and errors. The mistakes are all mine. Mom had no part in the proofing of this tale._

_**xxxxx**_

Between a Rock and a Hard Place 

_Hope is the thing with feathers_

_That perches in the soul,_

_And sings the tune—without the words,_

_And never stops at all,_

_ Emily Dickinson_

**Part 1**

02:00

Thanksgiving morning

November 22, 2007

The MacKenzie-Rabb Household

London, England

In the dim light cast through the partially opened bathroom door, she quietly stared into space searching for the strength to follow through with her task. It was time, long past in fact…hours, weeks…or was it months? Somehow in the turmoil of the past year, she'd lost her ability to accurately predict time. It seemed as if each day some little part of her died, crushed into nothingness by the weight of her oppressive defeat. It was this startling insight into her soul that had finally spurred her to action. This very real fear that one day soon she might fade into oblivion and completely disappear. Far more distressing, she wasn't sure her absence would merit notice or if the shadow that had overtaken her person would even be missed.

Glancing back toward the head of the bed, she squinted into the darkness for any signs of life. If she didn't move soon, he might awaken. And she didn't think she had the courage to follow through if she had to look him in the eye. It was her biggest fear really. To peer into the vastness of his blue-grey depths, and find herself buried there amongst the disappointment and sadness, the resignation and hurt, or even worse…the acceptance and loathing.

She shivered in the cool morning air. She never used to mind the draftiness of the apartment or the inconsistencies of the aged furnace, not when she was wrapped in his arms. He'd always had heat enough for the both of them. But it seemed of late, this bone-chilling cold was her only steadfast companion. No matter the layers of clothing or the thermostat set, she couldn't get warm. There was probably significance there too, she reasoned, but was too worn out to care.

Another intense shiver racked her body, and reflexively she rubbed her hands against the thick chenille robe, which clad her trembling arms. The brisk movements evoked immediate mind-numbing pain, and she covered her mouth to stifle the instinctive yelp. Carefully peeling back the pink fabric, she gently fingered the bruises and cuts soothing away the ache, which spread like piercing daggers along the length of the limb. She studied the angry purplish-blue discolorations that covered the dorsal aspect of her forearm before ending in a whirl of jagged gouges under her wrist. The iced compress had done little to hide the evidence of the mishap. Mishap, she chided herself for the use of an old familiar euphemism, as if it were merely an accident.

Accident.

Another one of those covert words laden with hidden meaning like clumsy, tripped, and fell. She knew them all, been well versed from a young age in the appropriate verbiage and half-truths of 'little white lies'. She closed her eyes against the repressed memories of a horrifying childhood long, long past. The yelling, the taunting, the screams. Panic and fear. Hiding in cabinets or closets, hunkered down under beds. Sounds of flesh hitting flesh. Deafening thuds. Tearful apologies, pleas for forgiveness, promises of 'never again'. Car rides to the emergency room in the middle of night. Glaring lights, antiseptic smells and piercing screams. Blood. Always blood accompanying the cuts, abrasions and breaks. Her mother's cries…her father's threat…a terrified little girl forced to tell lies. The incessant buzzing noise like insects in flight caused by the murmurs and whispers uttered just out of sight…the looks of pity and sad innuendo from people dressed in white.

She covered her ears to stem the haunting noises. Loud and menacing…'useless', 'whore', 'mistake'. Horrifying shrieks. The overwhelming echoes from her past reverberated and impacted with resounding force trying to escape the steel vault of her mind. Fist impacting bone. Blood-curdling screams. Sobbing pleas to stop…for divine intervention…the blessed peace of death. Beseeching to Him the Holy One on High. A little girl hidden in the cloak of darkness bargained with God promising to be…better, quieter, stronger, smarter…anything to make it stop. Hours, nights, years spent in prayer, but divine intervention never came…

Until…

The cries finally ceased…to be replaced by a mother's silence. Alone. Left behind…discarded like yesterday's trash. Unloved. She was nothing but an unwanted burden abandoned to the mocking fates.

Sweat drenched her brow and rolled down her face intermingling with tears. Inhaling deeply, she gulped for cleansing breaths, fighting valiantly to banish the demons and ghosts back into the cellars of her past. "I will survive. The past can no longer hurt me. I am in charge of my own destiny. I will survive …" she chanted the survival mantra mastered in the battleground of an Arizona desert at a beloved uncle's knee.

Pounding her fist into the bed, she fought to regain her inner strength and control. Dammit! She had survived! Spurred on by her uncle's encouragement, she'd escaped the misery of her childhood through grit and determination. Escaped the clutches of alcohol, the spiral of violence, and the preordained doom of that life. A Survivor! She'd made a clean break throwing off the shackles of her predestined fate. And in that moment of clarity long ago, she'd vowed never to look back…never be a victim…never be the one to hurt. On those rare moments when she remembered those days, all she could recall was the look in her mother's eyes…wounded, weak, defeated…vulnerable. A pathetic creature who chose to flee rather than fight. And each time with renewed fervor she vowed never to see that pathetic character staring back as her reflection in the mirror. NEVER!

Never…

So, how had she allowed it happen? To succumb? To become that cowering reflection in the mirror? In her wildest dreams she'd never imagined the future that had become her fate. It had begun so innocently, and even now she sometimes wavered on the maliciousness of the intent.

Her eyes roamed randomly across the room before settling once more on him. Two and half years, a mere 30 months, and yet sometimes it seemed like a lifetime. She could still see the coin rotating in the air, light reflecting off its edge. "Heads!" Bud cried out. "London," she whispered back. Harm questioned her repeatedly about the outcome, her happiness, leaving the Corp. He offered a second and third chance at fate. Each time she declined happily accepting her lot. She finally had him, what more could she ask? A whirlwind ceremony at a Justice of the Peace witnessed by old friends. A single honeymoon night, brief in time, but eclipsing all she'd ever hoped to dream. Tearful goodbyes, lingering kisses and promises of better things to come.

She'd stayed behind to tie-up loss ends, dot the 'i's' and cross the 't's' so to speak, while Harm had set off for London. It was in that first two months that she and Mattie had come to an understanding…she would become the primary caregiver, nursemaid, parent and friend…and Mattie would begrudgingly accept the role of injured child while vocally detesting every interminable minute of it. She'd understood the young girl's reticence…frustration…brooding, despondency, sadness, anger, and despair…Mattie's flare of reactions ran the emotional gambit from one moment to the next. At the tender age of 16 years, Mattie had lost her whole life. Instead of planning for college and a future filled with potential, she was dealing with profound loss and grieving all the 'should've's' and 'would've's' and 'could've-beens'. Instead of driving a car, she was learning to navigate a motorized wheelchair. Instead of graduating high school and excitedly entertaining the prospects of college, she was trying to master menial tasks like writing and brushing her teeth. Instead of dreaming of marriage, a husband and babies, she was mourning the loss of a father, a home and a foreseeable future. All in all, she understood Mattie's prolonged bouts of silence, glaring refusals to participate in prescribed therapies and counseling, moody rebuffs of visitors, and sick fascination with all things eerie and dark. It was the untimely Mt. Vesuvius volcanic-eruptions of Mattie's repressed emotions that sent Mac scurrying for cover.

Finally, six months into their new life, Mattie was released for travel abroad. The judge begrudgingly approved the custody arrangement with the caveat that Mattie return to Virginia for frequent medical and social service supervision. Once they arrived in London, Mattie's spirits lifted for a spell, a direct consequence of her close proximity to Harm. But as his workload and need for travel escalated commensurate with his new position, the waves of outburst returned. Mattie was careful to check her moods in the presence of her heroic protector. Afraid that he too might abandon her to her fates, she put on a brave face. It was during those long hours when she perceived captivity at the hands of her primary caretakers that the frustration, depression and anger would abound.

Mattie's medical care had mounted a steep burden, the coverage for physicians, therapists and durable goods being limited outside the States. Mac had counted herself lucky to secure part-time employment with the U.S. Embassy, and quite to her surprise, found herself loving the work. Piecemeal schedules with medical aides had filled in the resulting gaps in care. Harm, for his part, volunteered help when available, but found his usefulness limited when it came to personal needs. The chores of bathing, dressing, and personal hygiene fell almost exclusively to her.

As Mattie's schizophrenic ebb and flow of emotions continued to escalate like a roller coaster ride veering dangerously out of control, Mac had sought the help of a mental health specialist to counsel the family as a whole. The psychiatrist had come highly recommended by Mattie's physical therapist. The new physician found the road difficult to hoe as Mattie for her part refused to engage in the conversation of her plight. Slowly, meticulously the physician began to piece together the young girl's story…history of alcohol, death and abandonment, forgiveness which came to naught, a harrowing accident, disability and loss of control, the end of dreams…life.

It was a little over a year into her current existence, when the abuse had started. Harm had been summoned to Washington, an urgent meeting, and Mattie hadn't taken the unplanned absence well. During a transfer from her wheelchair to the bed, Mattie's weight had shifted precariously to one side sending the both of them to the floor. She'd collapsed under the girl's weight and lay gasping for breath, as Mattie lay prone upon her chest. When she'd finally gathered her faculties enough to assess the situation, she found Mattie staring into her face with a peculiar frown. Asked if she was injured, Mattie retorted with a negative grunt and Mac had carefully lifted her back into bed. It was then she noticed the large bruise blossoming on her own forearm. Rubbing the spot, she turned to Mattie to express remorse at her clumsiness resulting in the fall. She was disconcerted to notice a gleam appear in the teen's eyes. Just as quickly as it had appeared, it faded back to the ubiquitous expression of apathy surrendered of late. Mattie, it seemed, ran hot and cold. She dismissed the girl's disturbing sense of pleasure as a byproduct of her own exhausted imagination. But as the saying goes, _'Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans.'_

From that moment on, it was difficult to assess 'accident' from 'mishap.' Mattie's neurologic sequelae had left her with intention tremors and uncontrolled jerks. In the beginning, she'd discounted the bruises and scraps as incidental contact sustained in day-to-day care. It escaped her notice, whether through benign inattention or willful ignorance, that she was the only one to sport the purple and blue badges of shame.

As Mattie's mood deteriorated further, the psychiatrist recommended medications to treat the depression and violent mood swings. Mattie flatly refused to take the meds, and Harm, who witnessed little evidence of her oppressive behavior, felt compelled to side with the tearful pleas of his beleaguered charge. Mattie had found an unwitting ally in her attempts to wrangle back some modicum of control.

When the situation turned from grave to worse, Mac sought out counsel and advice from Mattie's therapist. The proposed solution was placement in an assisted-living facility; a home specializing in the rehabilitation of individuals with brain and spinal cord injuries perfectly tailored to meet Mattie's needs. The emphasis of the center was on treatment of the whole person, both body and soul. Mattie willfully dismissed the idea out of hand…she would not be displaced. Harm perceptively read the teen's curt response as yet another abandonment fear, and came to Mattie's aid. Long arguments ensued lasting well into the late hours and over days and weeks. Finally resigned to her fate, Mac had given up and given in. Mattie preened in triumph, although she'd mistakenly lost so much more than she'd won. Mac felt something die inside…and life moved on.

The final inciting incident had occurred just two days prior. Harm had been called to a meeting in Naples, leaving she and Mattie alone to plan for the upcoming Thanksgiving festivities just a few days away. Mattie upset over her preferred guardian's absence on a special holiday had refused to attend her therapy sessions that a.m. Mac had cajoled and finally insisted on the prescribed plan. While performing their morning routine of personal grooming, Mattie had fallen dead weight against her and sent them both careening within the small confines of the bath. When the freefall finally came to a blessed stop, she lay winded and unable to speak with Mattie propped above. The pain along her right side made breathing a nearly impossible endeavor and a burning sensation spread like wildfire up her left arm. She'd barely been able to gasp out Mattie's name panting against the searing pain. Gently brushing the curls aside from the teen's face, she immediately noticed the blossoming bruise over Mattie's cheek, which had already begun to swell. She carefully shifted them onto their sides and slowly maneuvered to stand. Mattie glared from her perch on the floor. With great effort, she was able lift Mattie back into her chair and gently inspected every inch of the girl's skin searching for cuts, abrasions or breaks. Satisfied the only apparent injury was the growing black eye, she quickly finished with their grooming tasks and headed off toward the hospital.

Arriving late for their appointed therapy time, an unfamiliar nurse checked Mattie in. The bruising duly noted, Mac was dispatched to the waiting room so Mattie could be thoroughly interviewed. It was only by luck that Mattie's psychiatrist happened to be on the duty roster for on-call that day. The physician had quickly dispensed with the nurse's insistent concerns having full knowledge of the troubled teen's past. Once Mattie was whisked away to commence her scheduled therapy session, the psychiatrist had turned to Mac asking to examine her 'war wounds'. Initially reticent to share, she'd finally acquiesced to the inspection and the follow-up x-rays and scans. Luckily for all, the films showed no fractures of long bones or ribs.

It was the nurse's glare and not so silent accusation that finally spurred her decision. Despite a year's worth of injuries, she'd stalwartly remained, but the prospect of being charged with abuse and willful neglect had shaken her to her core. Her good name, it seemed, was all she had left. She would not be labeled yet another 'Joe MacKenzie'. Figuring it was better to be remembered as weak than cruel, she chose her mother's fate.

Shaking her head to clear the horrible memories of the last few days, she studied his face. That beautiful face she knew better than her own. Her fingers twitched at her sides and she fisted her hands to prevent their movement. She longed for one final touch or the caress of his lips. How would he remember her, if he did at all? Would he see the tough, untrusting marine who held him at gunpoint in an Arizona desert? Or would he remember the loyal friend who'd followed him to Russia and back, twice. Maybe the withdrawn and emotionally downtrodden woman from the Admiral's dining out? They'd seen each other through tough times, both thick and thin. She only hoped good times were the memories that danced in his dreams…if he chose to remember at all.

"Mac?"

_To Be Continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Between a Rock and a Hard Place**

_**AN: **__Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. This piece was an emotional bugger to write. Just to let you know, this is a four part story._

_Disclaimer: I don't own JAG or any of the characters. I just take them out and play with them on occasion before replacing them safe and sound back on the shelf._

_**xxxxx**_

Part 2 

"Mac?"

She hadn't realized the anguished cry had escaped her lips, until he'd begun to stir. "It's okay…go back to sleep," she whispered.

He braced himself on bended arms and squinted in the darkness, "Sweetheart, what's going on?" His voice sounded hoarse and muffled from sleep.

"Ah, nothing…I was just…ah, using the bathroom. Now, go back to sleep," she rose from the bed and headed toward the bathroom door.

He laid back down and rolled to his side, watching her in the dimly cast light. "Hurry back to bed…can't sleep without you," he yawned a reply, as his eyes drifted shut.

"Be right back," she tried to control the quiver in her voice, and sighed with relief when he fell back to sleep. She circled back across the room to finish her packing, cursing herself for the wasted minutes spent deep in thought. Two steps from the dresser the floorboard creaked and she paused with foot in mid air.

"Damn old English architecture," she muttered under her breath.

The bedside lamp clicked on casting a harsh glaring light and she covered her eyes. "Harm, turn the lamp off…you're blinding me with the light!" she ground back. 'Please, please, please,' her mind begged, '…don't make me look you in the eye.'

"Mac, what's going on?" his voice was now clear and steady. She froze still and silent like a mouse trapped in fright between the safety of sweet escape and a predator's growl.

"Mac?" she heard his voice but a pace behind.

"Sarah?" He lifted a handful of clothing from the leather satchel, "Care to explain this? I don't recall you mentioning a trip?"

She swallowed hard against the lump that rose in her throat, eyes glued toward the bedroom door, her best chance of escape. "I, um…"

"Mac, please turn around."

"No…"

"Were you gonna just leave without saying a word?" When she remained silent, he released a frustrated sigh, "I don't understand…you never mentioned being unhappy. Is this about the Marine Corp? Your job?"

"And hell, what was last night about?" He whirled on her, "One final score for the road!"

She jerked as each word hit its mark. Yes, better he hate her she reasoned…he could move on.

"Well, you know us MacKenzies…we can walk away anytime. It's bred into our genes. In fact, it's what we do best," she grabbed the clothing from his grasp and tossed it back in the open suitcase.

"Anytime," she flippantly clicked her fingers with a flick of the wrist, "…just cut our losses and run!"

He reached for the luggage and flung it across the room. "Sarah, I don't understand you! You've been withdrawn and quiet for weeks now, if you weren't happy you should've told me. We could've worked through the problem together…I can't help if…"

He stopped mid sentence and glared at her, intensity flaring in his eyes, "Is there someone else?"

"No!" she gaped, "…I would never…"

"Then you need to explain yourself!"

"I already told you," she turned away from his glare.

"You are NOT your mother!" He reached for her arm and jerked her back.

She shrieked in pain and dropped to her knees, cradling the injured limb. Rocking back and forth, she fought to control the tears that stung in her eyes.

"Sarah," he gasped kneeling at her side, "…I'm so sorry. Did I hurt you?" He gently pushed the bulky sleeve up her arm, eyes widening in dismay. "Oh my…Wha…What, did I…" His mouth gaped open and closed as he searched for words; fingers hovering above the bruised and battered flesh afraid to touch. Finally with the lightest caress, he made contact trying to erase the pain.

"Please, please, tell me I didn't do this. Pleeease…" Tears dripped from his horrified eyes, "Sweetheart, I am so sorry…so, so sorry."

His pleading for absolution did her in. Burrowed against his chest she gave into the emotional torrent of the last few days, weeping uncontrollably for all she'd lost. Settling onto the floor, he took her into his arms and rocked her to and fro, trying to soothe with words and soft caresses his unrevealed fears still out of reach.

"I'm sorry, Mac. I never meant…I would never…" his voice shook with wounded emotion.

She finally lifted her head and cupped his downtrodden face within her hands. "Harm, you didn't…" He shook his head trying to duck from her grasp. Shame marred his handsome features and self-loathing darkened his haunted eyes.

She tightened her hold lifting his face to hers. Laying gentle kisses across his skin from forehead to cheek and round again, she tried to erase his pain.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he muttered on a continuous refrain.

"Harm…sweetheart, it wasn't you." His stormy grey eyes fought to escape the offer of forgiveness found in her warm brown depths.

"Harm," she kissed his lips emphasizing each word against his mouth, "…you…did…not…do…this." He buried his face in her neck and wept.

"Did you hear me?" Her breath fluttered against the shell of his ear, "I know you would never intentionally hurt me. Please stop and listen…Pleeease Harm, I don't want you blaming yourself." Her tears soaked his hair through to the scalp, "Sweetheart, I love you…please!"

They sat huddled together on the floor for long moments of time. Each shaking from the emotional release, the cold…the prospects of eternal loss.

Finally, he looked up and met her gaze. Long fingers gently stroked her face wiping away tears, and brushing the hair from her eyes. In like kind, she dabbed at the wet tracks lining his cheeks with the fuzzy cuff of her robe.

"Promise me you won't leave," tears choked his words.

"Never," she whispered back hugging him close.

"Mac?"

"Ummm?"

"If I didn't cause the bruises, what did?" She burrowed deeper into his embrace.

"Sweetheart, I need to understand. Were you in an accident? Did you fall?" She couldn't stifle the humorless chuckle that escaped her lips at the irony of his words.

He pushed her away from his body, "Mac, it's not funny! I'm serious…I need to know what happened!"

"No, it's not funny," tears erupted once more.

"Sweetheart, you're scaring me! Are you in trouble? Ill?"

"I'm my mother's daughter!" She thrust forward her bruised and scratched appendages, as if that explained it all.

Anger flared in his eyes, "Are you saying someone did this to you?!"

"Sssssh," she placed a fingertip against his mouth, "…you'll wake Mattie."

"I don't care who I wake! If someone hurt you, I want them to pay!"

"You don't want to know," sorrow filled her eyes, "…trust me, you really don't."

"Mac!" he warned, "You don't need to protect…"

"Harm…"

"Stand up," he pushed up her from his lap.

"What…"

He knelt before her, "Now, take off your robe."

"What…why?" she clutched at the cinched tie trying to prevent its removal.

"Mac, I need to see…please? I really need…I just…I need to know you're okay…that you're safe." He gently pried away her fingers. "The rest of it…whatever it is. We'll deal with it…together."

He parted the chenille fabric and gently pushed the robe from her shoulders. His eyes grew in horror, "Geez…Mac…" His fingers trailed over the skin of her arms and her legs.

When he turned her around, gentle hands upon her thighs, his strangled gasps filled the air. Tears flooding back full force, he tenderly rested his palm on her right side, "Oh Sarah…" His lips soon replaced his hand as he tried to erase the angry black and blue discoloration that ran the full length of her chest from breast to hip. "How could anyone…" his warm breath vibrated against her sensitive skin and she shivered in the cool air.

Reaching for her robe, she stepped aside and quickly donned the garment, eyes reflecting uncertainty, pain and embarrassment.

"Sarah, you have to tell me," his plea was soft and wounded. She looked away.

His eyes darkened with remembered regret, "Last night…you let me. But why? How?" He fought for words of comfort, understanding, "The pain, I can't even imagine…fathom. How could you let me? Sweetheart, I'm so sorry…why didn't you stop me?"

"I wanted…needed…one more time," wistful emotion clouded her eyes, "…it was worth the ache to share the love." The sorrow and stress of the last weeks finally took their toll. Her legs trembled and threatened to give out.

He watched her entire being collapse from within and quickly lunged forward to prevent her fall. "Mac, are you all right?"

She hesitantly nodded in reply and pointed toward the bed, "Sit down?"

He reached for her hand, afraid to hug too tight, and led her to their bed. Leaning back amongst the mound of pillows covering the headboard, he guided her into his lap.

When she tried to look away, he gently turned her face back to him. "Turn around, please," he beseeched. At her question gaze, he smiled, "I wanna hold you."

He carefully lifted her leg to straddle his lap and pulled her close, chest to his. When he attempted to push her robe from her shoulders, she clutched it tightly in her fists. "Harm?"

"Please, I need to feel you…hold you…touch you. Skin-to-skin. I need to know you're still here with me. Real. That you're not going to run away."

She released her hold. He cast the garment aside and carefully tucked the blankets around them both, cocooning them away from the cold. His large hands gingerly rubbed soft circle over the skin of her back. He felt the tension in her muscles lift as she relaxed against his chest. Her fingers traced the skin along his side. She softly sighed in fleeting contentment, a wish to keep the rest of the world at bay. If only they could stay like this forever…

"Mac?"

"Yeah?"

"When you're ready…I'm here," he kissed her cheek, "…take your time." He inhaled deeply to quell his fury, "But before the night's over, sweetheart…I need to understand."

She lay quietly against the warm wall of his chest trying to gather her courage. He wasn't going to like her answers, or the guilt that would ensue. Five, ten…twenty minutes later she was still silent, lulled into a restful peace by the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath, his scent, his very being. Just when he feared she'd fallen asleep, she began to recant her haunting tale. The two years time came pouring out…the good and the bad…the highs and the lows. He sat quietly listening afraid to speak or interrupt her train of thought.

An hour later, she sighed in exhaustion after recalling the final few days. It had shaken him to his core to realize he'd missed all the signs and traumas that had occurred under the roof of his very own house. Was he really that blind or had he willing overlooked the details both subtle and overt.

"This wasn't all your fault, Harm," she answered his unspoken ponderings.

"But Mac, I don't understand…how could I have missed it? I still find it hard to imagine Mattie capable of such actions…I mean, she's wheel-chair bound and dependent on us for all her care."

She started to pull away, but he tightened his hold, "Sweetheart, I'm not deny your accusations…I just need to understand."

She pulled back enough to stare in his eyes, "Harm, I don't think most it was intentional. Initially, it was just the incidental bruises and bumps of impact left from her tremors and jerks. Even now, I can't always discern when she means it or not, but I can tell you… Harm, if you could look into her eyes, see all the way to her soul. The anger and hatred that's reflected there. And the funny thing is, I can't entirely blame her. She lost everything…EVERYTHING! Anyone or anything that was important in her short life is gone…her mother, her father, a business, a home. HER FUTURE! Her independence, plans, hopes and dreams. Then…" she ducked away from his searching eyes.

He placed a finger beneath her chin to gently lift her head, "And then?"

"We…we took her away…"

"What do you mean?"

"Harm, we took her away from everything that was familiar…everything that offered some small form of comfort. Her home, school, family and friends. When was the last time she saw Jennifer? Her dad? I know she claims to hate him, but Harm, buried deep down inside…"

He nodded in reply, "Okay, I can understand all those disappointments, but she still had us."

"Maybe…"

"Maybe? What does that mean?" She looked away, unwilling to hurt him further.

"Mac?"

"In her mind…she was left with only me…"

"I was here!"

"Yes, in a way…but you've been so preoccupied with your command. Harm, she really misses you, but she'll never bring it up, because…because, she's afraid you'll abandon her too."

"I would never!"

"I know, sweetheart," she traced a fingertip over his brow trying to soothe away the emotional slap.

"Harm, 'I' know you would never walk away. But Mattie's scared, fragile and just emotionally messed up. She's afraid of losing her one perceived thread of support…that single relationship that separates her from hell." She shook her head in defeat, "I'm afraid she's found me a lousy substitute…"

"How can you say that?! Mac, you've been there for her, providing love, support and physical care for the last two years!" He was becoming agitated again.

"I realize that, Harm…but I'm not the one she wants. The one she's grown to love and trust. In her eyes, you're her savior, not me. And as such, she's used you as her unwitting ally against the rest of us…me, her therapist, the doctors."

"If this is about the assisted-living facility…" he sighed in frustration.

"Harm, she needs it!"

"I can't, Mac," he looked away. "She'll think I'm abandoning her…that I don't want her. I promised her, Mac…to always be there, to never walk away."

She took his face in her hands, directing his eyes back to hers. "SHE NEEDS IT, HARM! Right now, she's avoiding her therapies, refusing to participate in counseling sessions, and rejecting her meds. She's angry and so lost in the grasp of denial, that she's not gonna survive long enough to come out of this atrocity, much less intact on the other side. We have to help her, Harm. That's our job as parents…to make the hard choices and enforce the difficult rules. We have to give her skills and guidance…support her in her hopes and dreams! She can't stay like this for the rest of her life! I want her to realize she can be so much more!"

Tears welled in his stormy grey eyes and freely ran down his cheeks. She lovingly wiped each drop away. "Harm?" she whispered her plea.

Releasing a shuddering breath pulled deep from the depths of a broken heart, he nodded, "Tell me what we have to do."

They spent the next hour discussing all the options, the medical needs, the doctors and therapists' recommendations. Together, they forged ahead, picking through the hard decisions and difficult plans. In the end, they agreed to present a unified front of support and love, but Harm insisted that he assume the responsibility of talking with Mattie and implementing the plan. Mac, he reasoned, had been primary caregiver and savior long enough. He'd be the 'strict one' to insist on compliance and assure follow-through. Finally, in the predawn hours of Thanksgiving Day, they both sighed with exhaustion and hungered for sleep.

"Mac?" Harm jostled her back to wakefulness with a kiss to the head.

"Mmmm?"

"Why didn't you tell me about all this before?" She remained quiet and still.

"Maaac?"

She kept her face buried in his neck, hidden from his inquiring stare. "You were so busy with your new command. And at first, I didn't think it was serious. I thought I could handle everything without bothering you."

"Okaaay…but the thing is," he shook his head. "Mac, I don't want you to ever think you're bothering me, about anything," his words were warm and soothing, "…Do you understand?"

"'kay..."

"Why didn't you say anything after the 'accidents' started occurring? I could've helped more with Mattie's care, insisted on counseling…taken more of an active role." She lay eerily still; he could barely detect her breathing.

"Mac?" He felt the dampness spread across his skin before detecting the soft cry.

"Sarah?" he gently lifted her from his chest. She refused to meet his gaze.

"Sweetheart," he lifted her chin.

"I tried, you wouldn't hear," was her muffled response.

"Damn," he sighed, "…is that why you felt you had to leave? That I didn't care?" She shrugged and looked away. "Sarah, I'm sorry…I guess I got distracted by all the changes in our lives. First, there was Mattie's accident, the hospital, Tom walking away, custody and all that entailed. Then our transfers, the move to London…a new command. I know it's no excuse, but I guess I got so busying with the minutia and stress of life that I forgot to pay attention…" his voice trailed off.

"It's okay, Harm. I understand what Mattie means to you. She's…"

"I know what you're gonna say," he cut her off, "…I've been down this road before, but she's hardly an obsession."

"Sure she is," she stroked his cheek, "…but that's one of the things I love about you. No one will ever accuse you of not caring enough…or of ignoring the plight of the people and things you love. The admiral was right way back when…you are ruled by your emotions, but that's a good thing. Mattie would've been lost long ago if you hadn't come along."

"But that doesn't change the fact…"

"Harm, it really is okay…I understand. Mattie's very important to you. I can't imagine you loving her more if she were your own flesh and blood. And when you care about someone or something you tend to become target fixated…obsessed," she shrugged, "…like your family and friends, your career, flying…me." The last word was spoken softly and with little conviction.

"Mac," he cupped chin caressing her lower lip with his thumb, "…I think you have all those priorities in the wrong order." She attempted to struggle from his grasp; he tightened his hold.

"Surely you know…" he stared into her shiny eyes, watching the tears of doubt slide down her cheeks.

"Oh Sarah, is that what you think?" He gathered her close, and cursed the fates and himself for the events, which allowed her to doubt his love.

"Sweetheart, you are now and will always be my number one obsession. I love you, first and foremost…anyone or anything else that comes along just adds to our joy. I can survive without the rest, but not without you," he stated with conviction. "Trust me, I've tried…it just doesn't work."

"I love you, too," she cried. "I'm sorry I almost quit, but I knew if I stayed…Harm, something inside me was dying a little more each day. I even lost my clock," she giggled through the tears.

"Your what?" he grinned in return thankful for the respite.

"MY CLOCK! I don't know what time it is anymore," she threw up her hands and laughed.

"You internal Swiss timepiece," he smiled. She nodded through her laughter; life had been too heavy of late. "I love that sound," he spoke with awe.

"What sound?"

"You're laughter…I've missed it," his smile grew wider.

She frowned thoughtfully, "Me too!"

She traced his lips with her finger. "And I've missed this smile," leaning forward, she captured his mouth in a sweet kiss. He pulled her closer, firmer the touch and exploring her taste. When she shifted and yelped, he pulled back.

"I'm sorry…I forget about the ribs! Are you sure they're just bruised?"

"Ah-huh, x-ray showed no fractures. I'm just supposed to take it easy…guess our earlier activities tonight weren't exactly following medical advice," she quirked a brow.

"Nooo, I'd say not. Speaking of which…Mac, I know we've put things off because of Mattie and the financial constraints, but maybe it's time we started working on our baby. I know our best chance is _in vitro_, what do you say…" he stopped speaking when her expression morphed to one of sorrow. "Mac, what's wrong?"

Her eyes glazed over with tears, which she roughly swiped them away. "Damn! I have to stop crying! When did I become such a sniveling wimp?"

"You've been through a lot in the last couple years…we both have." He paused to study her, "I'm kind of afraid to ask, but could you tell me what these tears are about?"

She looked up to the ceiling trying to prevent the swell, "Ah, that would be the other reason I was gonna leave. I, um…I need to ah…have surgery."

"Surgery? For what?!"

"The, ah…endometriosis has gotten worse…I've had more pain…and some internal bleeding…"

He wrapped his hands around her upper arms and stifled the impulse to shake her. "Mac, why didn't you tell me?"

"Same answer as before," she released a sobbing laugh trying to control the cries. "Anyways, the doctor says I need to have a hysterectomy…at this point, the risks for a severe bleeding complication…far out weighs the chances of ever…conceiving."

"We waited too long?" his eyes filled with pain.

She nodded her head before collapsing in tears. He enfolded her in his arms. "I'm sorry," his voice trembled, "…I know how much you…we wanted…" Kissing her hair, he repeated over and over again, "I'm sorry…I'm sorry…"

By 5 a.m., she'd finally fallen asleep on his chest worn out from all the tears, the confessions and the talking. He suspected she'd slept very little of late. Although exhausted, he knew sleep wouldn't come for him today. Regrets swirled around his mind. How had he missed so much in his family's life? And how would he ever make amends? The necessary solutions would pose more upheavals, but perhaps a better division of tasks.

He watched her sleep; lines of worry remained etched in her brow. His fingers trailed through her hair and over her forehead trying to ease the stress. He'd almost lost her tonight. His breath caught and hitched in his chest at the prospect of just how close he'd come. He vowed to be more watchful, take better care. She was the important one now. Her life depended on him…and his on her. He'd been honest; life held little merit without the sunshine of her smile.

The minutes turned to hours, and by 7:30 a.m., he gently lifted her onto the bed. Pillows were fluffed and blankets pulled up, a kiss placed on her head. He tiptoed from the room pulling the door shut. His new duties began this Thanksgiving Day. There was Mattie to rouse, a turkey to stuff then frank discussions were going to be had. He expected more tears, then anger and yelling, but this time he wouldn't be swayed. He'd promised changes, and the changes were to begin today…

_To Be Continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

**Between a Rock and a Hard Place**

_**AN:**__Thanks for the reviews. Only one more part to this tale after tonight. It was supposed to be a one-chapter sort challenge, but it kind of got out of hand! I know I could've taken the explanation and details a lot further, but this felt right. Hope you enjoy._

_Disclaimer: I don't own JAG or any of the characters. I just take them out and play with them on occasion before replacing them safe and sound back on the shelf._

_**xxxxx**_

Part 3

Mid Morning

Saturday

Early November 2008

On a road, somewhere outside D.C.

Driving along the winding two-lane road in the rural countryside, Harm glanced over at his wife. She was enthralled with the view out the passenger side window. And if he were honest, he was enthralled by her. He marveled at what a difference a year could make. As opposed to her somewhat fragile demeanor of Thanksgiving last, she now appeared strong, content and at ease…in other words, like his beloved Marine of 'old'. If a year could age you ten, then he'd have to say this past year did the opposite for her. Indeed, she looked ten years younger, and even more beautiful than the day they'd first met.

Eyes back on the twists and bends of the road ahead, he allowed his mind to wander over the past year's events. To their credit, everyone in the Rabb household had made the necessary concessions to improve their life. He'd had a serious heart-to-heart with Mattie that Thanksgiving morn. As expected, she first tried to pacify him with tears. When that 'tried-and-true' technique had failed, she switched to blame. Armed with the facts from Mac, and several early placed phone calls to Mattie's psychiatrist and physical therapist, Harm refused to be swayed. Anger had erupted next, the likes of which he'd never been a party to at the hand of his young charge. The remainder of the day had been solemn and tense. With the exception of a chilly and silent Thanksgiving meal, he'd ensured a healthy distance between the two women in his life for the remainder of the holiday.

Mac's surgery had proceeded as planned the following week. He'd requested several days leave post-op in order to tend to her care. Once her pain and mobility had improved, he'd taken it upon himself to arrange for a pampered life of respite. Mac was placed on a first class flight overnight to Washington, where Harriet had offered a temporary mothering hand. His own mother had arrived the following day to whisk her away to a coastal retreat of leisure. On expressed orders from her son, Trish had ensured absolute rest and relaxation accompanied by gourmet food and a fabulous view.

By the time she'd come back to London, the apartment was ablaze in Christmas holiday finery, complete with tree, garland and bows. With a little friendly cajoling, he'd managed a yuletide visitor for Mattie as well. Jen had arrived on Christmas Eve and stayed through the New Year. The big sister had worked wonders on the disgruntled teen's mood, mostly because Jen refused to accept Mattie's recalcitrant stance. It was during this visit that Harm realized exactly how astute Mac's assessment of the situation had been. Thus the impetuous for the second major change in the Rabb family status quo.

Medical expenses for Mattie had continued to mount and multiple, as a nursing aide was hired to assist with her day-to-day personal care. The idea of a neurology-centered living facility, to coordinate and enrich Mattie's recovery, remained an idealized concept impossibly beyond the financial grasp of the cash-strapped family. As much as he wished an exemption to military regs, Mattie didn't qualify for his healthcare benefits. Those supplies and equipment, which could be shipped from the U.S., were covered by Mattie's Virginia Medicaid as a ward of the court, but the remainder of the expenses for her medical care, doctors' visits and therapy sessions in London had to be shelled-out from the Rabb family budget. After seeing marginal improvement in Mattie's attitude and behavior, complements of Jen, Harm fully understood the sacrifice to be made…his London command was next to fall prey.

Hours of phone calls between London and D.C. produced a most unexpected end. He'd been prepared to tender his resignation from the Navy once more, but a call from an old friend, in the wee morning hours, sent his career scurrying in a completely different direction. He'd argued with Mac that it was his time to quit, but she'd countered back that he was born and bred to wear 'Navy' blue. Handsome in civilian attire, she still preferred him best as the day they'd met…resplendent in dress blues, gold braid gleaming bright with a cover pulled low over those gorgeous blue eyes. And so he'd found himself addressed as Captain Rabb, professor to the Naval Academy's best and brightest. While never quite envisioning himself a teacher, he'd been pleased to find he not only excelled at the instruction of 'Military Justice 101' and 'Ethics and Leadership', but he thoroughly enjoyed the mentoring of tomorrow's youth.

With the assistance of Trish and Frank, the family found a comfortable home in one of the quaint suburbs outside Annapolis. He'd initially bristled at the idea of accepting financial help, but as his folks not so subtly hinted, "You can accept it now and enjoying spending time with all of your family…or you can inherit it when we're dead and no longer around!" The house was old and in need of remodeling, a 'jewel in the rough' so to speak. His work hours plummeted compared to the London command, he and Mac had tackled the project with gusto and love, transforming the decrepit bungalow into a warm and inviting family solace.

Mattie's rehab facility was a short hour's drive from their home. The teen had initially voiced hatred at the idea of her placement in a 'home' with those 'disabled folks', but Harm and Mac had staunchly followed through as vowed. The 'home' was actually a beautiful facility nestled amongst a country setting with rolling hills, a lake, streams and thick woods. It also boasted a world-renowned equestrian therapy program to assist with the recovery of neurologic function, strength and muscle tone. Within a few months of placement, Mattie had begun to make wonderful strides. Her temperament and attitude improved, aided as much by the reestablishment of a relationship with her father and friends, as by the restitution of neurological function and mobility to her arms and hands. While still experiencing some residual difficulties with intricate fine motor skills, she'd been able to resume most of her day-to-day care. Computer skills replaced deficits exacerbated by prolonged periods of writing. And with the help of a tutor, she'd completed her high school academic requirements, passed her GED, and had applied to and been accepted for part-time matriculation at Virginia Tech University. Her long-range career goal…a teacher for children with special needs. A month prior, the family had celebrated amidst much fanfare Mattie's transfer to one of the independent living apartments on the rehab campus. Now almost 19 years of age, Mattie was thriving on her semi-independence.

The other major family change to transpire was Mac's return to full-time employment. When the decision was made to move back to D.C., the Embassy had enthusiastically offered her employment with the Division of Diplomatic Affairs. Her legal and language skills were an invaluable asset. She loved the work, and even tolerated the social functions imperative to the position. She'd laughingly informed him, it was her 'chance to show off her handsome husband' in full regulation mess dress. All those medals, ribbons and other 'stuff' wrapped in a tall, dark and alluring package made her the 'envy of the ball,' she related with a smug grin. He, of course, proceeded to kiss that grin right of her gorgeous face.

The one missing piece in their now charmed life was another child. He'd taken it upon himself to investigate all the potential avenues for adoption. They'd decided against the idea of surrogacy, both wanting to 'create' a child together as a piece of both of them or not at all. They'd hit a major roadblock with public adoption in the U.S., mostly related to their age, and the cost of private adoption had been all but prohibitive. Finally after weighing all their options, they'd decided to venture abroad. Mac's Embassy contacts had been invaluable to that end, and Harm had taken on the task of research and 'paperwork guru' without complaint. He reasoned it was the least he could do after all the years spent perfecting their 'dance' to the detriment of her fertility.

He shook away the meandering thoughts of the last twelve months, as he steered the car onto the main drive of Mattie's rehab facility. Slowing to a cautious speed, he maneuvered the vehicle uphill and around the curve skirting a pond. Glancing at Mac, he found her still lost in the view from the window.

Reaching for her hand, he smiled, "Hey sweetheart, you've been awfully quiet for the last half hour or so."

"Sorry, guess I got caught up in the view. I just love the fall colors and flowers this time of year. I think I missed this most of all in London…we never had time to tour the countryside."

He cringed, "Sorry 'bout that...I guess we never did take time to enjoy the sights while we were there. My job kept me too busy…well, that and Mattie."

"I know, Harm," she squeezed back, "…I wasn't complaining, just enjoying what we have now."

"Mmmm," he sighed.

Pulling the car to a stop by Mattie's building, he shifted the gear into park, but didn't turn off the ignition.

Car door open, she stopped mid exit and turned back around, "Aren't you gonna shut off the car?"

"Nope," he flashed her a guilty smile, "…just you today."

"What?" she settled back into the passenger seat. "Why aren't you coming too?"

"Mattie told me she just wanted the girls today," he sensed her mood shift from relaxed to nervous.

"I'm not sure that's such a great idea," she mumbled with a sigh.

"Sweetheart, I know you and Mattie haven't been alone since London, but I think it's time. We've done really well in family therapy, and…" his eyes roved the inside of the car refusing to meet her gaze.

"And…"

"Mattie wants to talk to you about something…alone. She specifically asked me not to come with you today."

"What's this about, Harm?" Her fingers tensely plucked away imaginary lint.

Reaching for her hand, he settled her fidgeting, "Nothing bad…I promise. Okay?" He kissed her palm then tugged on her arm to pull her closer. "Any chance I can get a goodbye kiss?"

She sighed in surrender, "Fine, but I don't like being kept in the dark or the idea of being ganged up on."

"Promise to make it up to you," he mumbled against her lips.

"Oh yeah?" her eyes lit up. "How about dinner?"

"Well, I guess we can start there, but I had other more…'exciting' plans," he threw her his best flyboy grin.

"Exciting, mmm…we'll see…"

"Pick ya up at 15:00," he gave her one more quick peck.

"Three? Why so late?"

"I've got 'things' to do today…places to go…people to see!" he grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Besides, Mattie wanted you to attend her equestrian lesson this afternoon." She stood beside the car door shaking her head in bewilderment. "Mac," he gestured, "…shut the door!" She complied with an uncertain glare.

"Toddles Marine," he tossed her a teasing kiss over his right shoulder as he drove off, eyes sparkling with mischief.

She climbed the stairs to the front door and slowly made her way to Mattie's room. They really had made great strides in their relationship over the last few months, but she was still a bit unsure of being alone with the girl. The family counseling sessions after moving to D.C. had been difficult to put it mildly. Mattie directed most of her anger at Mac. They'd slowly made progress, as Mattie picked through the ruins of her current life. Mac had attended each and every counseling session and came along with Harm for most of the weekend visits. After six months at the center, Mattie had fulfilled her requisite goals for a daytime visit off campus. They'd brought her home for a casual day of movies, popcorn and fun. Jen had joined in the mix defusing the situation immensely. Since that time, Mattie had come 'home' one weekend per month, but always with Harm chaperoning the visit.

She stopped outside Mattie's door and inhaled deeply to calm her nerves. Rapping lightly on the door, she was greeted with a chipper, "Come on in!"

Sticking her head around the door, she smiled tentatively, "Hey Mattie, it's just me…"

"Mac! I'm so glad you're here!" Mattie maneuvered her chair over to the door. "Come in…come in," she waved her hand, "…I was just making us some tea. Is vanilla chai okay for you?"

"Uh, yeah…sure," Mac closed the door behind her, "…that sounds great."

Mattie returned to her task, "You can throw your jacket over on the bed. This shouldn't take but a minute."

Mac did as instructed then wandered around the large open room. She picked up a framed picture of Harm and Mattie then set it aside to study the next. It was a large collage frame made up of several different snapshots. "This is new…"

"Oh yeah, Jen got it for me. She even helped me print out the pictures…don't ya just love it?" the teen effused excitement.

"Yeah, it beautiful. I love all the details carved into the frame," running her finger over the photos, she asked, "Where'd you find all the pictures?"

"Oh, here and there," Mattie shrugged, "…some Harm took, others were mine." She carefully lifted a small platter holding two mugs and a pitcher of cream onto her lap and maneuvered the wheelchair toward the small living area. "Tea's ready!"

"Oh, that was quick," Mac placed the frame back on the bookcase and strolled over to Mattie. "Where do you want me?"

"How 'bout one of the chairs in the seating area? I think it'll be more comfortable for a nice long visit." Mattie carefully lifted the platter and placed it on an end table, "You want cream in your tea?"

"Sure that'd be great," Mac settled into one of the large overstuffed leather chairs. Accepting the mug from Mattie, she blew across the surface of the steaming cup then took a tentative sip. "Mmmm, this is really good."

Mattie reached for her own cup, "I know…Dylan got me started on it."

"Dylan?" Mac raised a questioning brow.

"Don't worry, he's just a friend," Mattie waved a dismissive hand. "He lives in one of the other independent living buildings across the pond. We're both attending classes at Tech….his major is business administration, but we're both taking English Lit and History of Civ this semester…we both ride the van to school on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays."

Mac smiled at the young woman's animated jumble of speech. She hadn't seen Mattie this excited in a long time, not since…well, not since the accident. In fact, not since she'd first moved in with Harm.

"He sounds like a nice guy. Any chance Harm and I can meet him?"

"Maybe," Mattie blushed, "…I'm not sure I want Harm going all 'overprotective' on him." She giggled, "You know Harm. I love him to death, but he can be such a 'DAD'!"

"Yeah, he can," Mac grew quiet and contemplative.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mac…I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay, sweetie. Harm is a great father…I just wish…" She shrugged and looked away struggling to gain control of the emotions that always seemed to be bubbling just underneath.

"Mac?"

"What sweetie?"

"Umm, I was wondering if you could hand me that box over there," Mattie pointed toward a thin, oblong box decorated in a bright paisley pattern. Mac retrieved the requested item and handed it to Mattie.

"Umm…no, it's actually for you."

"Me?"

"Yeah, it's just a little something I wanted you to have," Mattie smiled nervously. "Go ahead…open it!"

Mac released the tape securing the sides and lifted the lid. Pulling the tissue paper aside, she found a beautiful collage frame identical to Mattie's. Within the individual shapes were various photos of Harm and her, he and Mattie, the three of them, and inset into the largest middle frame was a photo of she and Mattie. They were staring off into the distance and laughing. Mac ran a finger over the photo as tears appeared in her eyes. "Where'd you…"

"Jen took it one night when we were all having dinner at Harm's old apartment in D.C." Mattie chuckled in memory, "We were laughing at him because he forgot to put the lid on the blender. His salad dressing ended up all plastered all over the kitchen walls!"

"I remember that," Mac looked up with wonder. "I guess with all that's happened in the last few years...I forgot," she chewed on her lip in reflection and whispered, "…I forgot about all the good times from before."

"I know…me too," Mac's tears were matched by identical drops in Mattie's eyes. "Mac, I wanted to be alone with you today, so I could apologize…"

"That's not necessary," she reached for Mattie's hand.

"Yes…yes, it is," the young woman caressed Mac's hand. "I need you to know how sorry I am for my attitude and behavior back in London."

"Mats…"

"Please let me say this!" Mac nodded for her to continue.

"I was just so angry back then. I thought I'd lost everything…EVERYTHING," Mattie gestured emphatically with her hands, "…my dad, my life in Blacksburg, my ability to walk, flying…all the hopes and dreams I had for my life. They all disappeared," she clicked her fingers, "…in the blink of an eye. I wanted it to be someone's fault, and I couldn't blame Harm. I was afraid if I took it out on him, he'd walk away just like my dad, so instead, I blamed you." Tears were flowing down her cheeks, "I'm so sorry, Mac…I didn't really mean it, but I didn't…"

Mac reached for the girl while battling her own tears, "It's okay, sweetie…I understood what you were going through back then…I didn't blame you."

"But you were going to leave!"

Mac nodded, "Yes, I was…I grew-up in an abusive home, and I promised myself I would never live like that again." When Mattie melted into her chair in shame, Mac continued, "Mattie, my decision to leave or stay was prompted by more than just you and your behavior. Nothing was working for our family in London. Harm was preoccupied with work, you weren't coping with your recovery…we'd left all our family and friends behind. I think we all needed to come home…that Thanksgiving Day, a year ago, was the impetuous to propel us to a better life. And this is better, sweetie…for all of us."

"You're saying we needed a swift kick in our…"

"Mattie!" she warned.

"What?" Mattie giggled, "…I was gonna say 'six'."

"Yeah…right," Mac smiled back.

Mattie sobered once again, "Mac, all those times I…hurt you. Most of the time I didn't mean it…it was an accident. But sometimes, I was just so mad and out of control."

"I know, sweetie…but hurting someone else is never the answer. We have to find other outlets for our anger and disappointment."

"I understand…and I promise, I'll never treat anyone like that again. I love you, Mac. Will you forgive me?"

Mac took the young woman into her arms, "Already forgiven and forgotten." She pulled back enough to look in Mattie's eyes, "And I love you too, sweetie…always. There is nothing you can ever do to make me stop loving you."

"Me too," Mattie hugged her back.

_To Be Continued…_


	4. Chapter 4

**Between a Rock and a Hard Place**

_**AN:**__Thanks to all of you who reviewed! I'm so happy you enjoyed this tale. I was really afraid it wouldn't be well received. I was also surprised to find so many of you agreed with me about the implausibility of the Mattie storyline, perhaps that's why this story didn't ruffle more feathers. I realize I could've gone into much more depth with this tale, but as I noted, this was supposed to be a one-shot deal. So here's the final portion, hope you enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own JAG or any of the characters. I just take them out and play with them on occasion before replacing them safe and sound back on the shelf._

_**xxxxx**_

Part 4

At 15:00 on the dot, Harm found Mattie and his wife sitting on the front porch waiting for him to drive up.

"There's my girls!" he waved as he exited the car. "Hey Mats, did you two have fun today?"

"Yep, it was the greatest! Mac got to watch my new routine on Smokey, and we took a walk down by the lake!" Mattie bubbled with pride.

"How 'bout you, Mac…you have a good time?" he eyed her with concern.

Mac's face lit up, "I had a wonderful time…best I've had in years." She squeezed Mattie's hand and leaned over to place a kiss on her curly head.

"You two have a chance to eat lunch?" he paused beside the passenger door.

We had some tea and cookies…does that count?" Mattie responded with a challenging grin.

"No!" Harm frowned, "…I thought I taught you two better nutritional habits than that." He lifted a large basket from the car, "Good thing I brought along sustenance. Anyone up for a picnic?"

"Ah, I think I'll pass," Mattie shrugged, "…I'm kinda tired, but you and Mac can go."

"How 'bout it, sweetheart…up for a picnic?"

"Sure," she smiled, "…although, I think I'm as worn out as Mattie."

He reached for her hand and gave it a tug, pulling her up from the rocking chair. Looking back at Mattie, "Sure you don't wanna come?"

"Nah, I really do need to take a nap…you two have fun," she covertly tossed a wink in his direction.

"Get some rest," he leaned over to place a kiss atop her head.

"Will do…you two try not to get into any trouble," she giggled then turned to Mac, "...see ya next weekend?"

"You bet," Mac leaned in for a hug, "…I love you."

"Love you guys, too." She waved, "Thanks for coming to visit…and for all the other 'stuff'."

Harm winked, "Love ya, kiddo."

He reached for Mac's hand, and led her toward the road. "Come on, Marine…I imagine you're starved."

She leaned her head onto his shoulder, "Where are we going?"

"I thought we'd hike down to the park area by the lake if you up to it. Sure you're not too tired?"

"No, that sounds good."

They walked along a spell in silence, before veering off on the path that led toward the lake. Ducking under an arch of billowing trees, they came to a clearing by the water.

"How 'bout over there," Harm pointed to a huge oak tree ablaze in fall color.

"Looks good to me," she took the blanket he offered and shook it out under the tree. The blanket caught and whipped in the breeze before fluttering to the ground. She smoothed out the wrinkles and dropped into the center of the comfortable old woolen quilt. He settled beside her and set the picnic basket off to the side.

"How was your visit?" he treaded lightly.

She graced him with a beautiful smile, "It was wonderful, but I suspect you already know that."

"I hoped," he shrugged, "…but it's good to hear you and Mattie are back on…stable ground."

"Getting there…now, what did you bring to feed me, Sailor? I'm starved!"

They enjoyed a peaceful lunch, as Mac related the events of the afternoon. By the time they finished, she was rubbing her face to conceal the yawns.

"Tired sweetheart?"

"Yeah, a little. You know how draining an emotional discussion can be," she knuckled a finger into her eye.

Harm pushed their plates aside, and leaned back against the knurled trunk of the old oak tree. Patting the ground between his legs, he crooked a finger, "How about relaxing with your old hubbie for a while…I make a pretty good pillow I'm told."

"Don't we need to get back?"

"Nah, we've got time…let's enjoy the fall scenery for a bit before we head back to the car."

She settled between his legs and leaned back against his chest with a contented sigh. Arms wrapped around her, he rested his chin on her head.

"Comfy?"

"Mmmm…yeah, this is nice. If I fall asleep, do you promise to carry me to the car?"

He chuckled, "Something tells me, you're gonna be too excited to sleep."

"Whaaat?" her voice slurred already near slumber.

"I have a surprise for you," his voice held a singsong lilt.

"More surprises?" she chuckled softly. "A girl can only take so much fun in one day."

"I think you'll like this one," he slid a 5x7 photograph into her hands.

Her eyes popped open with rapt fascination, as she ran a finger over the glossy surface, "Is this…um, I mean…is she…" her voice caught in her throat.

"Yes," he whispered against her ear, "…she's finally here."

"When," she stared mesmerized at the sweet baby face alit with a giggling smile, "…when was she…um, when…born?"

He smiled against her cheek amused at the inarticulate stuttering of his usually lucid wife, "September 25th…she's just six weeks old."

"She's beautiful," tears threatened in her voice, "…is sheee," she swallowed back the cry, "…is she really ours? This time, we get to keep her?"

"Yes, she's really ours. That's our baby girl…our Lily," he kissed her cheek.

"Lily…Elise…Rabb," she reverently whispered the name, drawing out each syllable, afraid the mere mention of their child might erase the dream.

"I love the sound of that," his voice shook with deep emotion, "…Lily Elise Rabb. I can't believe after all this time," a tear trailed down his cheek, "…our daughter. Oh Mac, our daughter!"

"Our second daughter," she gently corrected while caressing his cheek. "When do we get her?"

"Well, how about now?" he slid the plane tickets into her hand.

"Now?" She turned in his embrace, "What do you mean now?!"

"I mean we fly out on Monday," he beamed with pride at the unexpected surprise. "The adoption agency wants us in China for legal proceedings on Wednesday." She stared at him with mouth agape. "If all goes well," he tapped her nose, "…we should be able to bring our daughter home within the week."

"Monday? But…but…how?"

"Apparently your diplomatic connections came in handy," he smiled when her mouth silently opened and closed in rapid succession like a fish. While he was known to be flustered for words on occasion, she could usually recite a dispassionate plan with perfect fluency.

" But…but…we have so much to do! We're…we're not ready…we don't have anything for a baby." Her hands started to fly at a frenzied pace, "We need diapers, bottles, a car seat, clothes." She looked up with panic, "We don't even have a crib!"

"It's okay, sweetheart," he tried to calm her movements.

"No! No, it's not! We have so much to do! Why are we just sitting here?" She tried to pull out of his arms, "Harm, come on…we have to get going!"

"Mac!"

"Harm, now…we have to…"

He wrapped his arms around her, and tumbled them down to the ground. They ended up on their sides facing each other.

"Harm, we have to go!"

"No," he grasped her frantic hand, "…we have to celebrate our good news."

"But…" she wiggled in his grasp.

He rolled atop her, trapping her beneath a wall of considerable warmth. When she finally quit struggling and stared back at him mouth agape, he smiled, "You okay now?"

"Ah…yes, but…"

"No buts, it's under control…I promise," he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Now, take a deep breath," he moved his face closer to hers, "…close your eyes," he kissed her closed lids, "…and let it sink in. Savor the wonder for a moment." His voice was dazed and wistful, "Sweetheart, she's finally ours…we're the parents of a baby girl!"

He felt the tears slide down her temple, "This is really happening…after all this time?"

"Yes," he whispered.

"I'm not gonna wake up from a dream?"

"I promise…this dream is never going to end," his voice exuded tearful joy. "Now open your eyes."

She gazed into his, "Thank you…thank you for making this happen." Tears glazed her eyes bright and shiny, "I love you."

"I love you too," he kissed her once, "…and I wanna thank you for sticking it out…for not giving up on us…any of us."

"I couldn't," her fingers stroked the nape of his neck before threading into his hair, "…no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make myself leave. That night, all I could do was sit there in the dark arguing with myself."

"I have to admit…I'm awfully glad your closing arguments were rusty and your summation fizzled that night."

She giggled at his silliness, "Just kiss me, Sailor."

"Yes Ma'am," he happily obliged.

When they pulled back panting, she swatted his backside, "Now, can we go home?"

"Nope," he grinned unrepentantly.

"But Harm, we have things to do!"

"All taken care of," his grin grew to full flyboy wattage.

"What are talking you about?" she sighed in mild frustration.

His tongue peaked out, "What do ya think I was doing this afternoon?" When her eyes widened in question, he preened, "Bud and I painted the nursery…walls and trim. The baby furniture is all assembled and sitting in the middle of the room, awaiting your direction."

"Wha…"

"Oh, and the bedding and curtains are washed and pressed…thanks to Harriet," he positively beamed.

Her eyes flashed with tears, "You picked it out without me?"

"Of course not," he soothed, "…you remember when we wandered into that baby boutique a few months back?"

She nodded, "Yeah, I didn't wanna buy anything…I was afraid to jinx fate."

"Well, I happen to be a very observant husband," pride shone through in his smile. "I took note of all the things you loved, then went back the following day and ordered all the furniture and bedding."

"You mean…"

"Yep, the convertible cherry sleigh bed, dresser, bedside tables, even that overstuffed chenille rocker you sunk into with a dreamy smile. I had it all delivered one weekend while you were out of town on Embassy business and stored it up in the attic."

Tears dropped from her eyes sliding down her temples and into her hair. He scooped her up in his arms, and rolled her onto his chest. "Hey, what's this all about…did I do something wrong?"

"No…"

Large hands rubbed soothing circles over her back, "Then why all the tears?"

"Haapppy tears," she cried burying her face in his neck.

"In that case, I'm kind of afraid to show you the next surprise." She stared at him with disbelief. Reaching into the picnic basket, he pulled out a blanket.

Unfolding the soft pink roll, she chuckled, "Blankie Bear?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, "…I thought Lily needed something soft and cuddly for the plane trip home. That's the one you liked best, right?"

"Yeaaah," her voice quaked with tears, "…but I think she already has something soft and cuddly to curl up with." She caressed his cheek, "She has her wonderful daddy."

"And her mom," he hugged her close, giving her time to collect herself. When she began to shiver in the cool temperatures of the setting autumn sun, he kissed her head. "Ready to head home, sweetheart?"

"Yes," she rolled off and extended a hand to help him up. He groaned at the effort and helped her collect their things. Hand-in-hand they slowly ambled down the path away from the lake.

As they neared the car, he squeezed her hand, "You up for a quick stop at one of those baby stores?" At her questioning look, he continued, "Lily's gonna need a special outfit to wear home."

"She's gonna need a lot more than that…we may be shopping all night!" She was suddenly giddy with excitement at the possibilities.

"Actually…"

"What?" her shoulders slumped.

"Up for another surprise?" he cringed.

Her hand subconsciously rubbed her chest, "I'm afraid to ask…I'm not sure how much more I can take."

"Um, this afternoon…uh, Harriet picked up some stuff…"

"Oh," she sounded disappointed.

"Was that bad?"

"Noooo, it's just that…I wanted to…" she dug her toe into the dirt.

"Oh sweetheart, don't worry," he hurried to cut her off, "…Harriet just picked up a few things. Some diapers and a few sleepers…oh, and some of those t-shirt thingies…"

"You mean onesies?" she laughed.

"Yeah, some of those with the cutest tiny pink rosebuds, but the rest of the baby stuff we can pick out ourselves…well, except for what you get at the baby shower…"

"Baby shower?" she gasped from the whiplash of events.

"Ooops," he nervously grimaced, "…guess I ruined that surprise." He chewed his lip, "Tomorrow afternoon…Harriet's?"

She stopped in the middle of the drive and squinted her eyes tight. Completely overwhelmed, she tried desperately to absorb all the news without whirling dangerously out of orbit. He paused beside her, resting a soothing hand on her back.

"Sweetheart? Are you all right…I mean, if you don't want the shower." She shook her head. "Harriet didn't mean to interfere. It's just…after everything we've been through; our friends wanna share in our joy. Do you want me to tell her no? Or maybe she could reschedule for a few weeks down the road."

"No, it's okay…I just need a chance…" she inhaled to ease the skittering sensation of being out of control.

"I know…I got the certified letter yesterday and my head is still spinning. If it hadn't been for Mattie's help today, I never would've been able to surprise you," he chimed in.

"Oh," her expression fell, "…so that's why Mattie wanted me all to herself today."

"No!" he shouted. "No Mac, Mattie wanted to talk to you two weeks ago, but you were tied up with that Iraqi reception and had to cancel. Sweetheart, Mattie meant everything she said today. It just so happened that she was also an accomplice in the Lily surprise." He grinned, "By the way, she can't wait to meet her baby sister. I e-mailed her a photo last night."

"So, it's finally all coming together… one big happy family…after all these years?" Eyes wide in wonder, she dared to hope, all the while reaching for the stars.

"Of course! I promised you didn't I? And I never break a prom…" he barely had time to drop the picnic basket before she collided with his chest. Arms wrapped around tight, he spun her in the air. Heads thrown back, they giggled with unbridled mirth.

Whispered "I love you's" caught the wind on feathered wings, and wafted up on high dancing gaily among the celestial bodies of stars and moons. The sweet fulfillment of a destined love long denied but never quenched sang an unending tune.

A young woman staring from a window high smiled in the evening dusk. With thanks of praise to the heavens above, she whispered satisfaction in a plan well done, "That's certainly one way to bridge a divide." She giggled with delight.

And hope lived on…

_The End_

_Whew, now I think I need to go back to fluff…these emotional pieces ring the life out of me. I'm thinking, maybe a little Rabb family for the Thanksgiving holiday? We'll see…_

_I hope no one was offended in the telling of this tale. Criticism is welcome, as long as it is nicely phrased!_


End file.
